


Random Clocks

by claritylore



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Action & Romance, M/M, Mystery Character(s), POV First Person, POV Outsider, Rebound, Spoilers Omitted from Tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:46:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claritylore/pseuds/claritylore
Summary: Meet Joe, a pretty average guy with a boring life, who finds himself the target of a vicious alien with a grudge and a handsome American Captain on the rebound...(Despite the tags, this is a Jack/Ianto story FYI)
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Random Clocks

**Author's Note:**

> ARCHIVE NOTE: This fic was originally written back in 2007, now rescued and reposted here for safekeeping.

People always seem to be telling me that life just bloody whizzes by. Blink and miss it at your peril, they tell me. Well, you know what I think? I think everybody’s a philosopher when it comes to the obvious.

It seems to me that if it goes by so fast, then perhaps it’s just supposed to. Who’s to say that the speed at which it passes by isn’t a design feature, or some such thing as that? I certainly wish it would hurry up some days.

I suppose having nothing to really look forwards to does that to a guy. The highlight of my week currently is when, every Thursday, that pervert comes by the shop to get pictures of naked ladies blown up big and laminated. He says it’s for the walls of his nightclub. I’d believe him but it does seem a bit suspect to me. His nightclub must have a hell of a lot of walls in it.

The biggest thrill of my day is collecting up the catalogues, brochures and bits and pieces for the mentally disabled lady who stops by most days, gathers them up and takes them home in her big wheelie bag. I like her. At least her conversation is slightly unpredictable. One minute she can be talking about the soaps and the next she’s on about seeing a pterodactyl flying ‘round Cardiff or some such thing. When she no longer wants to talk she just walks away. But she’s always back to collect more, from our print shop, and from all the shops further down the alley and every other shop in the vicinity. I often think it would be nice to be a headcase and have an excuse to wander around and chat with people like that. Then again, I find it hard enough to talk to the two or three people who come by the shop per day, so I’d be useless going from door to door anyway. Oh well.

Oh I know I could switch jobs. Get more practise with my people skills. Work less hours even. I just don’t seem to have the energy to make a move, especially since I’ve only been in Cardiff three or so months now, after moving out from the tiny village I grew up in for the first time ever. I had no trouble adjusting to city life; in fact it almost seems like I was never anything but a city boy. Perhaps it’s because of the routine I have going here. There is a certain cold comfort in monotony, loathe as I am to admit that.

My days consist of the same thing; I spend my mornings either sleeping in or visiting the antiques stores, then I work from ten to six, seven days a week, and I like to spend an hour or two in the evenings just walking along the side of the bay. That’s the only time I ever really feel at peace. For a country bumpkin, I have to admit I feel extraordinarily safe by the still blue waters of Cardiff Bay.

Or at least, I did.

I never even saw it coming, whatever it was. I just saw flashes of blue, burning red eyes and sharp claws. It was snarling something at me but I was too shocked to really catch what it was saying, or fight back much even.

Then I heard voices and I was never so thankful in my life. The big blue creature leapt off me and there were shouts, yells and gunfire. I didn’t really see what happened.

The next thing I knew strong arms were wrapped around me. Through the blur I could make out the face of a man with dark hair. He was yelling aside for someone called Owen. The more the fuzz cleared the more he looked kind of familiar somehow.

He looked down at me, smiled unconvincingly and told me I was going to be alright. I nodded, trusting him, before letting it all slip away.

The taste in my mouth told me that time had passed when I next woke up. I saw a white ceiling first off, and then a bag of grapes in my peripheral vision. The smell of antiseptic and cheap cleaning products clinched it for me; I had to be in hospital.

A voice drifted over to me. I recognised it immediately as the voice of the man who had saved me. American. Deep but with a hint of lightness about it that suggested to me that if he was a singer, he would be Tenor. He was talking to a nurse.

I checked myself over, thankful to find all my limbs present and correct and nothing to suggest anything severe had occurred. Mostly my head just hurt really badly and my eyes were sore. An involuntary groan alerted them to my consciousness and the American was by my side in a flash, smiling.

‘Hi,’ I said, unable to think of anything else when I realised how beautiful that smile was. I probably sounded like a lovesick teenage girl just there in that one word.

‘Hi.’ He brushed an errant lock of hair back from my forehead. It felt strangely intimate considering the fact that I had no idea who the hell he was. But I just chalked it up to him being American and of a level of attractiveness that probably meant he was able to do that all the time with people swooning too hard to protest.

‘Thank you,’ I croaked.

‘You’re welcome.’ The grin was fading away into a look of deep concern. I was both touched and a little alarmed. That was when I noticed his odd dress sense; aside from a few bits of technology here and there, he looked like he’d stepped right out of a postcard from the wartime era.

Damn him, that made me feel even weaker in the chest, being a real sucker for 1940s period antiques and all.

‘Did you catch him? Or it. Or whatever that was that had a go at dispatching me?’

‘Not yet but we got a tracker on him at least. He’s proving to be a little slippery though.’ He sat down in the chair by my bed and started eating my grapes. I didn’t mind since he had to have been the one who brought them in the first place. ‘Don’t suppose you happened to catch what he was saying to you?’

‘Sorry, no. I was a bit busy being surprised.’ I poked my forehead. It hurt. I decided not to do that again.

‘You have a concussion. They’re keeping you overnight for observation but that’s all. You’ll be free to leave in the morning.’

‘Oh. Good.’

He made as if to leave and I felt a strange panic grip me. I didn’t want him to go. The first intelligent conversationalist I’d met in months, and the most attractive person I think I’d ever met? No way was I leaving it there.

‘Hold up, are you going to tell me what that thing was?’ I called, stopping him in his tracks. ‘It was that looked like a cross between a Smurf, a Rastafarian and Mr Tumnus from that Narnia film. Didn’t look human.’

That cracked a smile, which quickly infected me.

‘Just a drunk dressed up in a costume. You got unlucky is all.’

That didn’t ring at all true to me and I think my eyebrows gave that away.

‘Amazing what you can do with makeup nowadays,’ he said and chuckled. ‘I need to get going but it was nice meeting you Joe.’

‘You’ve been reading my name roster. Hold on, come do this properly.’ For some reason, I felt bolder than I could ever remember feeling before around someone. Later I would chalk that one up to the concussion. I held out my hand and he tentatively accepted it. ‘Joe Murdoch, at your service as you might say. And you are?’

‘Jack. Captain Jack Harkness.’ There was that grin again. If I had been standing, I knew I would have gone weak at the knees over it. It was a show stopper.

He was interested. I knew it. I might be a bit disinterested in sex generally but that doesn’t mean I can’t tell when people are sending out vibes.

‘I uh, I hope I’m not being forward here,’ I found myself saying, and was somewhat amazed by my own audacity, ‘since I know you’re probably attached to someone already - in fact I’d put a one hundred per cent certainty on a guy like you being attached to somebody - but I was wondering, that is I’d really like it if, you would… meet me for coffee sometime? I mean… uh, you seem like an interesting person and… well I owe you one for saving my life, so…’

I witnessed the moment his face utterly dropped and I definitely felt something inside me explode for embarrassment. He looked mortified. And I felt the same.

‘Uh no. No… sorry,’ he said, quickly. ‘I… I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

‘Sure. No it’s… no I don’t think that would be a good idea either,’ I rambled like an idiot. ‘So um… Right.’

‘Bye Joe.’

‘Bye.’

And just like that, he was gone. I pressed my palm to my face, utterly horrified at myself for doing that. Talk about reading the signals wrong.

Anyway, I slept that day off and dozed through the night. They let me go in the morning and I found I had more time than usual without having slept in. So after returning home for a shower and a change, I decided to have a shopping trip.

I am a collector of antiques. Well, more specifically, clocks. Victorian to post-war ones almost exclusively. I like the old-looking kinds, which need to be wound up and are made of bronze and silver metals all covered in inscriptions. It’s a stupid little obsession, I know, but hey, everybody’s got to have a hobby, right?

There was nothing for me around the place that day so I headed off to work. It promised to be nothing more than the average, run of the mill, boring day in the print shop. Except I couldn’t get that smile and those sparkling eyes out of my mind the whole time.

So imagine my surprise when that smile and those sparkling eyes wandered into the shop later on to surprise me.

Of course it had to be blooming Thursday as well; pervert day. He wandered over and immediately gave the blown up prints of tits I was about to laminate an amused once over. I died of shame.

He just laughed it off and said he’d changed his mind and wanted to get that coffee after all. Before I knew it, I had a date for six thirty.

You know how I mentioned that life tends to go fast, before? Well there are exceptions. Days when you have a coffee break booked with a Greek god are most certainly on that shortlist. For once the day went at the pace of an aging dung beetle rolling a weighted marble; very very slowly.  
  
When the hour was finally nigh, I was so nervous, I was convinced I was about to make a fool of myself. I just wasn’t used to doing this; going out with some guy, I mean. Or anybody ever really. Experience was not on my side.

As it happened, we got along extremely well. There were stumbling blocks, I can’t deny it; neither of us were very good at talking about our pasts, or our works. Conversation was light and very flirty, and we had fun.

Feeling bold, I asked him if he’d like to join me in a walk along the bay. He hesitated again before accepting. I think he was glad he did in the end. It was a beautiful night, with not a cloud in the sky and the moon was big and bright, casting a pleasant glow over the water. We walked for a while, laughing and joking around about nothing in particular, just enjoying the company. Under the shadow of the Norwegian Church I got up the courage to brush up very deliberately against him and get a little more physical in my flirting. He got excited, chased me a short way and when he caught me, I kissed him.

At first he was very much into it. I felt tingles from my toes to the tip of my head, and an odd sense of déjà vu for some reason. He quickly recovered himself and pulled back, saying yet again that it was a very bad idea.

‘You’ve got someone haven’t you?’ Yes, I sounded as crestfallen as I felt. I didn’t even try to hide it.

‘Yes. Well, no. Once, yes, but we went through a bad patch. A huge enormous bad patch. He betrayed me in the worst possible way I could ever imagine in fact. But… I don’t think this is right. I owe it to him not to do this.’ He stepped back, clearly having to force himself to calm down.

‘It’s okay,’ I said, resigning myself to the fact that this wasn’t going to become anything. ‘Then I hope we can be friends, Jack. I don’t know many people in this city, so it’s been nice to get to know you a little.’

He relaxed a little and patted me on the shoulder. ‘Sure.’

‘About time I got home, I think,’ I said, with a glance at my 1920s antique watch to hide the fact that all I wanted to do next was go and get nicely depressed and self pitying in private.

‘I’ll walk you.’

We returned back making more restrained, more companionable conversation. I couldn’t help but notice that he was wound up tighter than a spring all the way, though I judged it impolite to say anything. I was enjoying the company too much.

It was about an hour or so back to my bedsit from there but it seemed like it only took a few minutes. I ended up hanging around at my doorway hoping against hope for some sort of goodnight kiss. Things were feeling a little awkward by that point. He ended up giving me more of a goodnight handshake instead.

But then he stopped as something over my shoulder caught his eye. ‘Is that…?’ He stepped around me and went inside. Having no idea why, I turned around, closing the door behind me in an effort to have him stay a while longer.

Jack was looking at a large clock mounted on my wall just inside from the door.

‘That’s a Gustav Becker 3-weight Grand Sonnerie. 1890. Am I right? Absolutely gorgeous.’

 _Noooo,_ I thought, _if he’s a clock enthusiast too I’ll die of a broken heart right now_.

‘I don’t believe it. I used to have one exactly like this. Long time ago now but, wow this brings back a few memories. Must have cost you a fair bit to get hold of? These aren’t cheap nowadays.’

‘That one was a bargain at about two hundred pounds or so. I can’t remember exactly.’ I shrugged trying not to look too pleased with myself. ‘I got it at a garden sale actually. They didn’t know what they had.’

The ticking coming from the room at the end of the hallway caught his attention and he looked in. There were three or four more clocks visibly on display from where we were standing.

An odd expression took over him and he wandered down and into the living area. I have twenty seven clocks, all antiques of varying periods with fairly similar dials. He looked someway between impressed and intimidated looking around them all.

It’s funny but when somebody else comes into your life and sees an environment you see every day, it’s almost as if you’re seeing it for the first time too. I realised the bedsit was pretty bland and empty except for the essentials and all of the clocks. I felt a little ashamed that I didn’t have a nicer place to take him home to and wished I’d taken more time to make it homely.

He didn’t seem to mind at least, too engrossed in looking at the clocks. ‘Where did you get all of these?’

‘Various places. Antiques shops, auctions, garden sales, uh… ebay. Would you like some tea or coffee?’

He turned around to me, fast, and stared for a second. ‘Coffee?’

I gave him a nod and went around counter into what laughingly passed for a kitchen, but was really just a u-shaped counter in the corner of the room. Ah bedsits are such easy places to live in.

‘Hey, is that instant?’ He caught me before I started putting the coffee in the mugs I had got out of the cupboard.

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No, no not at all.’ There was that disarming smile again. ‘Just somebody I know would kill me if he knew we were drinking instant.’

‘Some people have no taste.’

That made him laugh. He came around the counter and leaned over it, watching me put the kettle on.

‘So why all the clocks? What’s that about?’

He asked so seriously and with such gravitas I felt my cheeks flush a little. ‘Uh… well, it’s just a hobby. Well, sort of, it’s more… how do I explain this? I have a vision, no, that sounds stupid; more just an image of the perfect clockface. Okay now I sound like a crazy person. Sorry I’m, I’m rambling…’

‘No, come on tell me.’

‘It’s... I just have this idea of what a perfect clock should be. Like an image in my head. So I went to a store one day and found something similar. Guess the interest just took hold from there. You don’t take milk or sugar, right? You didn’t in the shop.’

‘No. I always take it black.’

‘Snap.’ I poured and handed him one.

We ended up perched on the end of my double bed, since I didn’t have space for a couch. I originally took it as a temporary let while I searched for an actual flat and never found the energy to leave.

‘This coffee is terrible,’ he said, lightly.

For some reason it cracked me up and we both ended up guffawing.

‘Used to something better?’ I asked, and he stopped laughing. I had no idea what I’d said wrong but he just looked hurt.

The next thing I knew he was kissing me. It was awkward, holding a mug of steaming hot coffee whilst angling completely to the side and being kissed hard enough to lose some teeth, but if he didn’t mind the stretch I certainly wasn’t going to complain.

‘What happened to this not being a good idea?’ I gently complained when he put his mug down on the floor by the tele and took mine from my hand to put it down as well.

‘It’s not,’ he said, and carried on anyway.

So there I was, pondering the nature of good and bad ideas, trying to figure out if I was ending any hope of anything long term here by falling right into his hands so easily. Then I decided that, since he didn’t strike me as a long-term sort of guy anyway, I might as well just go for it. It sure felt like a good idea from at that particular moment, and that was good enough for me.

‘I can’t help it,’ he informed me as he wrestled me to the centre of the bed and kneeled over me, peeling away his layers. First the big army coat. Next a pale yellow bomber jacket. Then he was pulling down a pair of red braces.

When I saw them, my face lit up. ‘Braces.’

‘What’s wrong with braces?’

‘Nothing. They’re just… I like them.’ I tangled them around my forearms and pulled him down so we ended up chest to chest. ‘Good for all kinds of things.’

‘I like how you think.’ He rolled me over so I ended up on top of him. ‘I can’t help but notice you’re not taking anything off.’

‘I don’t have as many layers on. Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of me; think I’m so easy that you could just lay me down and I’d do anything that you’d like.’

’Oh I’d say you were anything but easy. This whole day has been a nightmare.’ He said this, conversationally, whilst unbuttoning my shirt a button at a time. ‘Trying not to accept your offer for coffee and then being able to think of nothing else until I’d accepted it. Trying not go walking with you along the bay and managing to go walking with you for hours. Trying not to kiss you and ending up doing just that. Promising myself I wouldn’t go inside your home and ending up here lying on your bed with your hands wrapped in my braces. Apparently I have no willpower these days.’

‘I see. Yes that does sound like quite a difficult day. Is there anything else you’re trying to resist doing? I only ask because, well, if I know, then maybe I can help you not do it.’ He slid my shirt from my shoulders and I released my hands from his braces to let it fall away entirely.

‘I’d better not tell you then,’ he said, with a smile and a beguiling kiss.

That was when it all kicked off. We literally raced to get out of our clothes, sending them flying all over the place, too eager to press skin against skin to care about what happened to them. It felt so good to have some human contact finally I lost myself in it. If he’d have told me to roll over and bark like a dog I would have asked how loud. Awful that, isn’t it?

He had big hands that just seemed to touch me everywhere all at once, along with strong thighs and arms and a nice long, slightly tanned dick, just a little larger than mine (though not by much of course). He pressed against me, lying on top between my legs, rubbing us together, causing some sweet friction which made me have to bite my lip.

‘Top me,’ I growled in his ear, feeling incredibly liberated for knowing he wanted me. Normally I wouldn’t dare say anything so blatant like that.

His eyebrows went up, though he didn’t stop moving against me for even a second. ‘Sure?’

‘Is the Pope Catholic?’ I went through my drawer to find a condom. He gave me quite a dirty leer when I threw him my very squeezed out tube of lube. ‘I’m disease free, that much I can guarantee.’ No sex will do that to a person.

‘Same here.’ He tossed both aside and kissed my neck, then moving down my chest in further kisses, down and down. I watched until he reached my navel but had to throw my head back after that, gripping onto the bedcovers. He drew me into his mouth and the sensations of his tongue swirling around the head intermingled with featherlight brushes of his perfect teeth damned near sent me into orbit. I didn’t even notice as he began to prepare me with his fingers, breaking away every now and then to tell me to relax and let him take care of me; advice I chose to follow since he quite obviously knew what he was doing.

I lay back and pondered my incredible good luck. There couldn’t be too many hot American guys in sexy period clothes wandering around Cardiff. Certainly not many who’d take any interest in me. I felt like I was in lottery winner territory. My mind was just running through options for the Bonus Ball when he started to nudge inside me. I caught my breath and made myself relax. He wasn’t exactly small after all. I really felt every inch of him. But I loved the feeling; the burn and the pleasure all mixing together to overwhelm. Nothing like it in the world.

Then we were fucking like a springboard. No way to sugarcoat that fact. The man seemed telepathic almost, knowing everything I liked and exactly how to send me crazy without my having to say a word. I discovered my hips could bend in ways I’d never had the chance to experiment with before. That was exciting in itself. Seeing those blues eyes sparkling and his skin glowing with perspiration and knowing that it was all for me made it all into an absolutely electrifying experience.

I came first. I mean, how could I not? He kept slamming into me, fingers gripping into my thighs hard enough to leave some nice marks and then went rigid all over, pushing in so far I could practically taste him. ‘God Yan,’ he gasped before collapsing over me, panting like a marathon runner.

To say that him saying what sounded like somebody else’s name was a bit of a kick in the teeth would be an understatement. But I was determined not to feel hurt. After all, the guy was doing me a favour just noticing my existence so I knew I shouldn’t complain really.

‘Who’s Yan?’ I asked without consent of my brain, and of course regretted it immediately as he looked at me, eyes half-lidded and cheeks all flushed, not understanding. ‘Is Yan that one who betrayed you?’

He looked beyond guilty. ‘I’m… I’m sorry, I kind of lost it for a second there.’

‘No no, it’s… it’s fine. I just wanted to size out my competition.’ Unfortunately my attempt to make light of it hit somewhat wide of the mark.

Jack pulled off the condom, tied it and dropped it in the bin. Then he sat on the edge of my bed, slightly hunched over. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said, quietly. ‘I want to explain it all to you but I can’t.’ He stood up and started to gather up his clothes.

‘You aren’t leaving are you?’

‘I think I should.’

The tingles in my stomach hadn’t even died down yet and he was going to hightail it out. I felt pretty bad as I watched him, guessing from his body language that this was probably the last time I’d see him. Disappointment, thy name is Joe.

When he was decent, he came over and kissed me deeply, fingers lightly stroking my jaw. ‘I wish it didn’t have to be this way,’ he said, genuinely.

I didn’t know what to say really, so I just gave him a polite nod and watched him go.

The time was long past two in the morning so there was little to be done except tidy up and go to bed. Talk about a sour end to a near perfect day. Okay, I wasn’t expecting a fairytale ending but he could have a least slept over. That would have been nice; waking up next to _that_ in the morning would have been nice.

I put it down as experience and went to bed.

Come morning I was feeling pretty sore, though in a good way. I got back into the robotic routine as usual, getting up and dressed and ready for work; all just as hollow as before. I wandered into the print shop, sorted out some brochures that had been ordered and waited around for life to speed by once again.

I tried not to think about Jack. That only made me think of him more. By this time I was at the anger stage and had decided that he was a bastard and not worth my time anyway. I didn’t believe that for a minute really but it was easier to be tossed aside by a bastard than a genuinely nice, fun, charming bloke.

It was about three in the afternoon when I heard a big clatter in the main area of the shop. Fearing that one of the wall shelves had collapsed or something, I hurried out front, coming out through the door behind the counter. I arrived just in time to duck the flying body of the young sales assistant, Terry, who had been in charge of the floor. He landed half on me behind the counter, eyes open and his neck at the wrong angle.

‘I know that you hear me,’ a weird, deep, kind of inhuman sounding voice boomed. ‘I have searched for you for a long time. I sense you.’

I peeked over the countertop. It was the Tumnus-Rasta-smurf thing, looking positively twice the size I remembered it being the last time it made an attempt on my life.

Quickly I scrambled away into the back, blocking the door by overturning a freestanding stack of shelves. There was no way out of the back room except that door. I knew I was trapped.

With very little else to work with in the room, I grabbed the fire extinguisher and blasted the thing with it the moment it broke inside. That at least slowed it a bit; leaving it coughing and rubbing its eyes, shouting curses in some language I didn’t recognise. I took the opportunity to topple a few more shelf stacks before taking cover behind the printing machinery.

‘You cannot hide from me. I know your scent. For you, I have searched some time. You must pay for your crimes.’ I could hear every heavy footstep of its big hoofed feet as it came closer and closer. ‘You were amongst them when they killed my friends. Torchwood men, you were one, yes. You stood by. Let them die. I escaped. I have searched out and destroyed all who stood by. You are the last.’ I growled and I knew it was barely a few paces away now. ‘You dirty humans call us dangerous? You are worse by far. You killed them without pity. Now I kill you without pity.’

I made the decision to make a move and it turned out to be just at the right time, as it leapt over the printers, trying to slash me with its sharp claws. I leapt right over the next line of machines, catching my shirt in the overheads on the way and ripping it practically in two.

That gave me an idea. As it leapt again at me, I dodged as far as I could and made a grab for the long rasta-dreadlock type things hanging from its scalp. I used all the strength I could summon to pull them down and trap them in the machine. The creature screeched and fought to be free viciously. I backed away, wondering what to do next, knowing I had only a few seconds at best to think of something to do. I tripped back over a pile of papers and came face to face with the big knife we had used to free a huge paper jam a few days previously.

I grabbed it and ran at the thing, plunging it into its chest. It roared and struggled more, so I pulled it out and delivered more blows, my own voice wailing in my ears with the effort and the terror of stabbing it over and over. By the time it had managed to pull itself free of the machinery, it had a lot holes in it and was bleeding a dark black blood, thick like ink, all over the place. It staggered towards me, growling and I made a final lunge for it, stabbing it in the throat.

The beast dropped to its knees but managed to grab me down too in the process.

‘There are others. They will find you too. You will die,’ it warned, red eyes boring into me. Then its strength began to wane and it sunk down to the floor, half on top of me.

I pulled myself away, yanked the knife from its neck and scrambled back into the corner, holding it tight in both hands just in case it came back to life and attacked again. I was covered head to toe in its blood, tears rolling down my face and shaking like a leaf in a tornado. On some level I knew I needed to move; go somewhere; call somebody. The police. The ambulance. Anybody. However I was simply unable to move.

Next thing I knew, that man I thought I’d never see again was there, pulling the knife from my hands.

‘Gwen, Owen, cordon this place off. We going to need to get these bodies out of here without interference. Tosh, do something about the CCTV, _now_.’

I didn’t even see who he was talking to. Everything was a blur. At some point I collapsed in his arms, the terror ebbing out. He cooed and said soothing things, holding me tightly. Then he somehow got me to my feet, put his big coat over my shoulders and escorted me outside, running, then helping me into the back of a big black Landrover.

‘Told you that wasn’t make-up,’ I said, my voice trembling.

He climbed in next to me and put his arm around me. ‘It’s okay. It’s dead. You did a good job. Those things aren’t easy to kill. Sorry we took so long getting here.’

‘What was it?’

‘That’s not important. What is important is why it went after you in the first place.’

‘It said something about… t-tracking me. Said its friends were killed and uh, and I was there and d-d-did nothing. Or something. “Torchwood” men, it said. It said we killed his friends. B-b-but I don’t know what that means. S-sorry.’

‘It’s okay. Just calm down, you’re safe now.’

‘It said there were others. Others coming after me. Oh shit!’ I suddenly felt a grip of panic. ‘Terry! It killed him. Holy shit it killed him!’

‘Shhh, we’ll take care of that. Don’t worry.’

‘Don’t worry, are you kidding me? It… it…!’ Suddenly, he kissed me, apparently to shut me up. When he broke off and gave me a smile, I pushed him away, anger overtaking the fear. ‘Would you stop doing that, already?! You can’t just, just keep swooping into my life and turning it upside down! You can’t fuck me then leave me and then just expect everything to just… to just...’ I think I had a small panic attack at that point. My forehead ended up pressed to my knees. ‘Fuck!’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, rubbing my back. ‘I was only trying to calm you down.’

‘Well it didn’t work!’

He broke away, hands in the air in surrender. ‘I need to help the others with the cleanup. Stay here, okay? We won’t be long.’

I nodded and crawled into the lingering warmth of his coat, hoping never to have to come out. At length Jack returned. The back trunk was opened up and bodies slung inside. He ordered the one called Owen to get in and drive them back, and the two women Gwen and Tosh to stay and deal with the police. Then he climbed in next to me, wrapped an arm around me and let me bury myself against him. I probably should have asked where we were going. Apparently I was just too shell shocked to deal with it all. I shut down a little.

We didn’t have far to go. The next thing I knew we were in some sort of hangar.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea bringing him here?’ Owen asked, giving Jack a raised eyebrow.

‘Jack doesn’t do good ideas,’ I replied, even though the question wasn’t for me. The man in question looked at me and smiled, his arm tightening around me a little.

‘Okay, Owen, offload the bodies get to work on the autopsies.’

‘Aren’t you going to give me a hand?’

‘I need to have a chat with Ianto.’

Owen sighed, exasperated and slammed the car door like an annoyed child.

‘Yan… Ianto,’ I muttered and frowned. That had to be him, the guy Jack was apparently pining for even though I was the one right here in his arms. Jealousy hit me and I had to push it down and remind myself that it had just been a one night stand, exacerbated by circumstances, and guys like Jack just don’t come unattached. This was to be expected.

‘Fancy a shower?’ he asked, and quickly amended, ‘To get clean. Nothing sexy, I promise.’

I gave him a weary nod and let him help me out. He took me through to a big cavernous room with no windows and a big silvery water tower in the middle. The tower reminded me a lot of the one outside the Millennium Centre, except indoors. There were all sorts of high-tech computers around the place. It would have looked pretty impressive were it not for the pizza boxes lying around everywhere. ‘Where are we?’ I queried.

‘Secret underground base. I’ll explain everything to you later but for now, I suggest we get all that alien blood off you and I’ll find you some clothes that are still in one piece.’

‘Uh thanks.’ We went down in an elevator and through some corridors to come to a large communal shower, styled in a fairly Victorian manner with cast iron fittings all over the place. Jack sorted me out some shower gel and left me to it.

I had the weird sensation of floating out of my body, it was all so surreal. But at least the shower was a good one. It made me feel a lot better.

He returned with a suit on a hangar and a big fluffy towel, which he welcomed me into. I eyed up the suit while I got dry. ‘Little dressy, isn’t it?’

He shrugged and looked away while I put on the clothes provided, playing the perfect gentlemen even though I had decided when I woke up in an empty bed that that was the last thing he really was.

‘Perfect fit.’ The suit was quality, I could see that. ‘Shame you forgot to bring some underwear.’

‘Oh. Good point…’

‘Hope whoever this belongs to won’t mind.’

‘I’ll have to ask Ianto,’ he said and chuckled to himself.

‘Oh.’ I made a mental note to cause an inadvertent rip in it at some point. ‘So, what now? You said I’m in a secret underground base, which strikes me as somewhat odd since I know for a fact we’re not out of Cardiff. Underground where? Or can’t you tell me?’

‘That depends on a few things. Come up to my office, I have something I want to show you.’

I was tempted to tell him how much like a line in some corny porn movie that sounded but left it. We went back up to the big room with the water tower and up some steps to a secondary level midway up. I found myself in an office straight out of a 1950s gumshoe movie, filled with an indescribable mess of clutter; mostly period wartime stuff, complete with big green safe. All that was missing was a name emblazoned on the window of the door and an old PI hat and beige coat on the nightstand.

‘You might want to take a seat for this,’ he said, and pulled one up on the other side of his desk for me.

‘Why does that make me nervous?’

He didn’t smile; just looked deadly serious. That really _did_ make me nervous. Jack opened up his bottom drawer and took something out of it. He moved around the desk and dropped it into my hands.

The moment I saw what it was — its face — I felt a jolt in my brain and flashes of something like memories smash into me, leaving me more than a little cockeyed. Sweaty bodies moving together, Jack and me; a beautiful dark skinned woman trapped inside silver armour; a gun pressed to my head hard enough to bruise; Jack’s eyes blazing with anger; pain in my chest I could never have imagined…

‘Ianto,’ he whispered, kneeing down in front of me, putting a hand on my knee, looking almost childlike somehow.

‘It’s a stopwatch,’ I said, dumbly. ‘I never thought of that. All this time I thought it was a clockface I was imagining.’

‘You remember?’

A tear rolled down my cheek and my whole body was shaking with the force of memories flooding back to me, rushing in like water coming through a crumbling dam. My head was pounding and my chest imploding and I felt like I was drowning. ‘We used to use it to… to time… Oh God. Jack I’m… it hurts.’

‘Shhhh, just let it wash over you. I knew when I saw all those clocks this would be your trigger.’

‘Trigger? What…? Why…? Why did you do this to me? You… you made me forget my whole life!’

‘It was your decision. Remember?’

I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping it wasn’t true. Sure enough the memory of the furious, horrific row we had, while Lisa’s blood was still warm and slippery on my hands, where he threatened to wipe my memory and kick me out and I told him to do it, appeared. At the time I had meant it. I didn’t want to have to live with it all.

Lisa, my beautiful Lisa; dead. I had nearly killed everybody there including myself. And worst of all, I had been sleeping with Jack just to keep him from prying, so terrified he’d discover my secret in the basement. God I’d whored myself out to him and barely batted an eyelid. ‘Jack stop this, I don’t want to remember.’ I clutched my stomach, trying not to throw up.

‘Not pretty is it?’ The hand on my knee moved onto my hand. ‘You know, I never thought I’d see you again. We sent you off to a nice little remote village, we gave you a new identity, a job, some land, plenty of cash… why did you move back to Cardiff?’

I would have answered if I wasn’t too busy being mortified. I just wanted to die, right then and there. ‘What must you think of me?’ I groaned through gritted teeth.

‘I think I should be asking the same question after… after what I did last night.’ He pulled away and went to sit in his own chair. Jack looked exceptionally tired then. ‘I told myself, you know, just once more. No harm in that, right? Since you’d never… if you knew who you were. Who _I_ am. God this is a mess.’

‘But… but why would you want to knowing… knowing that before it was all an act? That I just did it for… for her?’

‘Was it though?’ Jack fixed me with a piercing stare. ‘See I’ve been thinking about this a long time. At first I was too angry to really see. But I know you Ianto, and I know when you’re acting. When we were together, you weren’t acting. I know it.’

I wanted to refute his words and tell him that yes, I loved Lisa enough to do that, and he was nothing to me. Just that monster I needed him to be to justify my anger at the time. ‘No, I don’t think I was.’ That was the truth. I’d enjoyed being with him. A lot. I loved the way he could make me forget for a little while. Told myself it was just exploiting his weakness but it was never that, not really.

He nodded, sadly.

‘Jack, I…’ A thousand apologies wanted to tumble out of me all at once.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he cuts in. ‘Thought I’d never see you again. Then there you were, practically falling into my arms.’

‘Yeah, a regular damsel in distress.’

‘I’m not complaining.’

A thought struck me and made me smile, then start to laugh. Once I’d started I couldn’t stop laughing.

‘What? What’s so funny.’

‘It just occurred to me,’ I guffawed, more tears rolling down my cheeks, ‘you cheated on me… with me!’

Jack leered at me, that old dirty smile returning. ‘You have such a twisted mind.’

‘I think that’s a given, all things considered.’ Damn, that made him look all guilty again, even though I didn’t mean for it to in the slightest. ‘Look, I have to ask, are you going to wipe my memory again after this?’

‘Well we do have the problem of there possibly being more of those aliens out there coming to get you. Tosh found records from Torchwood One. It was once a captive of theirs; subject to experimentation and such. Must be where it knew you from. That alone is a good enough reason to keep you around here and fully cognitive of that particular danger. But that’s not the real question, Ianto. Do _you_ want me to wipe your memory again?’

I leaned back in the chair and thought about it. All those amateur philosophers telling me about life and how it went by too fast to be something you’d want to miss out on, well they were right. And I didn’t want to be missing out on it anymore. ‘No. I’d like to stay. That is… that is, if you have an opening.’

‘Are you kidding? Did you see how many pizza boxes there are down there? A few more and we could start a new wall of China. Toshiko’s all frustrated because there’s nobody to chat to about computer stuff anymore, Owen and Gwen won’t get off each other and as for me? Well…’ He stood up and moved around the desk, leaning back against it in front of me ‘…I’ve been sitting here night after night drinking myself to oblivion trying not to think about you.’

‘Really? You’re not angry?’

‘Oh I’m angry. That’s not going to go away. But they do say time is the great healer. And trying to manage this crazy institution without you, that’s been an experience I have to say.’

‘Why didn’t you replace me?’

‘Nobody can make coffee like you.’

He was obviously joshing and I was all too happy to play along. ‘That’s not what you said last night.’

‘I never thought I see the day where Ianto Jones was happy to drink instant. I’m keeping that anecdote stored away as future blackmail material.’

I looked up into his eyes, really far into them, maybe trying to find myself in them. Tiny flashes kept dazzling me from inside my head as memory after memory cascaded in and fell into place. I turned the stopwatch over in my hands a few times.

All those lies I told. There were so many. And the worst ones had been to myself.

I stood up and put my hands on Jack’s chest. He watched bemused as I let them slide down to his hips and I slipped the little piece of brass that had been tormenting my dreams for months into his pocket. ‘You’ll be needing that in the future, Sir,’ I whispered.

His hands slid around my back, all the way around in a bear hug and he pulled me right up against him, then suddenly leaning right back so launch us both off the floor onto his desk. It wasn’t the most comfortable of positions, probably more so for him than for me, but I wasn’t about to turn down such a blatant opportunity to kiss him. Unfortunately, he jerked back a little just as I did and I managed to get his nose instead. This made Jack laugh his head off until I stopped him with a well placed squeeze which had him choking on his own breath.

Legs wrapped around me and pinned me against him, full guard style.

‘Never letting you go again,’ he growled and kissed me, properly, with no noses involved in any shape or fashion.

‘Not even to go put on some underwear?’ Honestly the trousers were chafing a little already.

‘ _Especially_ not for that.’

‘Business as normal then, is it?’

‘Yes, except for one important difference. This time you will be completely truthful to me and to yourself. No more secrets. I’m serious, Yan.’

I had an urge to ask him for the same, but knew it would get us nowhere. The mystery was just a part of who he was; maybe even part of the allure.

‘Sure Jack.’ We sealed it with a kiss, which felt just like coming home. ‘It’s good to be back.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking a chance and reading this fic! I really hope you enjoyed it. If you did, comments are a surefire way to brighten my day. And if you don't have time for that, a Kudos only takes a second and is appreciated.
> 
> Got more time to read? I have more Jack/Ianto stories! From 2007:
> 
> Victorian Era Time Travel Love Story [24k, M] | [The Mirror in the Morgue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28897986)  
> Time Travel Angst [12k, M] [mpreg] | [A Ray, Turned Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899570/)  
> Evil Twin Shenanigans [10k, E] | [Ifan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899729)  
> Dark AU Hurt/Comfort [12k, M] | [They're Still Killing Suzie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898610)  
> Mindbending Time Vortex Series [27k, G] | [The Aesop Fables Series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900332/chapters/70901193)  
> Sad AU Love Story [16k, E] | [One Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900824)  
> Light Porny Fun [6k, E] | [Symbiosis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900989)  
> Collaboration Kid Series [75k, M] | [The Caerleon Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140731)
> 
> And here are some new fics for 2021:
> 
> Ianto vs The Void [14k, T]: [The Pub on the Edge of Forever](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29588298)  
> Jack Gets a Happy Ending [2k, G]: [What will become of us now (at the end of time)?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29684646)  
> Eye Candy, Companion, Time Agent... Who is Ianto Jones? [48k, M]: [The Eight Lives of Ianto Jones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871159)


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